As well as letting the pups out in the night for that which
pups go out for, I turned the fan on for Treacle. She was incredibly breathless
and panting at four o’clock. What was that all about? As I lay awake worrying
about her so Bailey was constantly dabbing my head with her paws in her sleep.
I’d slept from midnight till four o’clock… what more did I
want?
As I waited for the dogs to get up I made toast and
depressed myself by looking into Facebook. I really shouldn’t grumble; I do OK
really. But I get a tad jealous sometimes.
People who regularly post on Facebook pleading poverty were
posting photos of their weeks-long foreign summer holidays. An ex-trainee (who
recently moved into a mansion near Bodiam) was posting holiday snaps from
her eleven-bedroom second home in France (which she lets out when not using
herself).
I’ve absolutely no idea why I should be jealous of people’s
holidays; for all that I enjoy going away, I invariably get homesick.
And a chap I used to know (who works in insurance)
was advertising his house which is up for sale; the monthly repayments for a
mortgage on that house would be a lot more than my entire monthly wage.
I would say that I wondered where I went wrong in life… but
in all honesty I don’t think I’ve actually gone wrong; just not as right as I
might have done.
After a few minutes of feeling sorry for myself the dogs
swarmed downstairs and swarmed all over me. You can’t sulk underneath a pile of
dogs. As they swarmed, they hoovered up all the toast crumbs I’d made, then had
their own brekkie and we all went to the woods for our morning constitutional.
We had a good walk round the woods, meeting no one at all
as we went. The walk was only marred by the pups finding someone’s discarded
sandwich and scoffing most of it before I could stop them. Panicked by visions
of idiots spiking sandwiches with poison (you hear these stories) I had
a good look at what was left, but I couldn’t see anything amiss.
We came home; I gathered a bumper harvest of dog dung from
the garden then sorted out coffee and cake. Yesterday “er indoors TM”
baked a rather good banana cake. I’ve given her my regal permission to make
more of that(!)
I sparked up my lap-top and had a fiddle about on-line.
Yesterday I mentioned I was having issues with Paint Shop Pro 7. After a little
farting around I downloaded the latest version of Paint Shop Pro (in trial
format). I don’t like it for the simple reason that it is different to what
I’m used to, but I expect I will get used to it. After all I’m getting used to
this new lap-top (albeit slowly). I just don’t do “different”.
Just as the forecast rain started I set off to work. Well,
to the co-op to get lunch. I got to the co-op and saw a couple of young
children having a full-on fight in the doorway. After a couple of minutes of
waiting patiently for them to move it became quite plain that they had no
intention of stopping (or even pausing) their fight. So I stepped over
them; rolling my eyes at the manager-type who was chatting with the cashier. As
I walked in the general direction of sandwiches I could hear the manager-type loudly
asking whose brats were fighting the doorway, and an aggressive voice shrieking
back demanding who wanted to know; clearly not happy at having to take
responsibility for its children.
I then set off to work properly. Slowly. From Ashford to
Bethersden I was in a queue of traffic stuck behind a dustbin lorry. At
Bethersden the dustbin lorry turned off, but after a couple of minutes our
queue of traffic was soon going just as slowly behind a horse box.
At Biddenden there were epic queues for Tractorfest - a festival involving
lots of tractors. Add to this the usual hold-ups in Goudhurst and Sissinghurst
and half a dozen sets of temporary traffic lights (for no apparent reason)...
Some days my journey to Pembury is easy, other days not so.
I always say that whilst I quite like working at Pembury I hate going there.
Coming home was quicker, but the country lanes in the dark
weren’t easy.
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